I ultimately didn't follow Zhu Shi with "Firefly."

Regardless of the ever-possible departure of Ma Zao, since I had decided to establish a relationship with Zhu Shi and Mount Luo, it would be inconvenient to take actions that might damage that relationship. Zhu Shi isn't like Chang'an, and as a demon hunter, she might detect my "Firefly." Although she didn't seem to notice when I was with Chang'an in the hospital, there’s always the possibility of an exception.

As I walked home, I was still reflecting on the conversation with Zhu Shi.

This was the first time I had officially revealed my abilities in front of someone else, especially someone I knew. Although I’ve kept my true powers hidden up to this point, I’ve secretly hoped for the moment when I could showcase them.

"Fame and wealth that don't return to one's homeland is like walking at night in gorgeous clothes." Gaining great power and not showing it to anyone around you is no different from walking in fancy clothes at night.

In high school, I couldn't help but imagine, before falling asleep, a person with exceptional observation and reasoning skills. This person would notice the slightest suspicious detail about me, then go through a series of magical deductions and self-denial, painfully reconstructing their worldview. In the end, they would follow the clues to find me, and with overwhelming shock and an inability to accept reality, they would state their reasoning: "Zhuang Cheng, are you really a superhuman?"

At that time, I would calmly admit their reasoning in front of them and demonstrate my powers—yes, I am.

Who could have predicted that this time, I did confess the truth of being a superhuman in front of a friend's younger sister, but she, too, transformed before my eyes, revealing herself as a member of a mysterious organization of demon hunters.

It felt nothing like I had imagined...

Just as I was struggling to reconcile this thought, my phone suddenly made a sound, signaling a new message. When I looked at it, the message was from Zhu Shi. The content was a single sentence:

"By the way, Senior Zhuang, you are not allowed to return to investigate the basement in Floor 15th tonight. Just in case, I have asked the investigator to keep watch over it!"

What a sister who could be so drastically different from one moment to the next.

The first time we met, she called me "Senior" because she had already planned to enter Xianshui University. Recently, she had indeed enrolled in the first year of Xianshui University, so I could proudly call myself her Senior.

"I understand, Zhu Shi." I replied to the message.

After a while, I returned to my doorstep, having bought some late-night snacks along the way, which were packed in two plastic bags.

"Firefly" had already returned before me and confirmed Ma Zao's condition. Ma Zao was still at home, just as she was when I left, lying on the couch in the living room.

However, she seemed quite exhausted now, curled up on the couch. The mystery novel I had recommended to her was halfway opened, resting beside her head. There were also some old magazines I had bought out of curiosity placed on the coffee table, showing signs of being flipped through.

She was still wearing the gray top and pants I had given her. Perhaps she had taken my words, "Feel free to use anything at home," to heart. She had found some rubber bands from somewhere and used them to secure the sleeves and pant legs, which were rolled up in layers, at her wrists and ankles.

I opened the door and walked into the house, then approached her side. Her sleep quality looked poor; her eyes were tightly shut, her brows furrowed, and her throat emitted meaningless whimpers like a small animal. Even though she was asleep, her entire body was still tense, as if drawn into a bow.

Although earlier I had been thinking, "Now that I have Mount Luo, maybe I no longer need Ma Zao," seeing her again made me instinctively toss those thoughts aside.

It wasn't just because I still needed Ma Zao to counterbalance my unknown repulsion effect with supernatural events. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about that aspect first. Sometimes, I have to admit that I'm a short-sighted person, more inclined toward what is immediately reachable, and someone easily swayed by emotions. Her figure awakened the mysteries of her that had been buried in my mind, and once again, I found myself unable to escape from her.

I turned and placed the two plastic bags on the coffee table. To keep an eye on her, I still thought it best to carry her to the bedroom, just like last time, and sleep on the couch myself. However, as soon as my finger touched the back of her knee, she suddenly startled. Her eyes snapped open, and in an instant, she swiftly leaped up. One hand grabbed my arm, while the other lunged toward my throat.

I had a feeling this kind of development had happened during the day as well. Was I about to be put in a joint lock again?

This thought instinctively crossed my mind. Although I knew I wouldn’t be in any danger, it was like walking past a corner in a hallway and suddenly having someone jump out to scare you—anyone would be startled, and so I was too.

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In the next instant, her quick and agile movements seemed to hit the "pause" button. The hand that was about to choke me shifted from a tight grip to a light touch.

"Zhuang Cheng?" she asked, uncertain.

"It's me." I calmed my heartbeat. "I'm back."

She froze for two or three seconds before relaxing and sitting cross-legged on the couch.

"Where did you think you were?" I asked.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, looking upset.

"I’m not upset with you," I said as I placed one of the plastic bags with items in it on her lap. "Look, I brought you something."

She looked down, her nose twitching as her eyes lit up. "This is..."

I pulled out a hot, cheese-filled chicken cutlet from the plastic bag and said in a friendly tone, "I thought you'd probably be hungry by now, so I brought you a midnight snack."

"I'm not that greedy," she protested, but her eyes couldn't leave the fried food in my hand.

I purposely asked, "So, you don't want to eat it?"

"...I do want to eat," she reluctantly admitted.

"Go ahead," I said, handing the chicken cutlet to her. Then, I pulled out something else from the other plastic bag. "There’s ice cream too. After you finish the chicken, you can have this."

"Ice cream? I’ve seen it in written materials before. It’s supposed to be really tasty..." She widened her eyes, staring at the chocolate-flavored ice cream in my hand.

Yes, go ahead and eat it. Eat as much as you want. It would be best if you messed up your stomach and couldn't leave my house... I hid those malicious thoughts deep inside, continuing to recommend the midnight snack to her. She seemed more and more eager to try it.

Suddenly, she looked up and asked suspiciously, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I will."

It seemed that if I just watched her eat, she wouldn’t move. Fortunately, I had already anticipated this and bought two servings.

After a while, we finished everything. She seemed somewhat satisfied and, once again, unconsciously showed a contented smile.

Perhaps she was already very tired, and after eating, she became even sleepier. Her eyelids slowly started to droop. I suggested she go back to the bedroom to sleep, but she insisted on sleeping on the sofa.

"The bed is only one, right? This is your home, so you should sleep in the bed," she said, now much more relaxed than before. "You're really strange. Is there really only someone like you in this day and age? If it were the end of the world, someone like you would die very quickly."

"That's not necessarily true. There are plenty of bad people in this era too," I shamelessly accepted the label of being a 'nice guy,' then asked, "From what you said earlier, it seems you've come across some materials about this era. What do they say?"

"I haven't come across much material, and a lot of it was written by people from the post-apocalyptic era based on their memories and impressions. I’ve heard that during the civilized era, people's morals were very noble," she said seriously. "Anyone who grew up in the post-apocalyptic era can't be trusted. They only know how to deceive and hurt each other, thinking only of benefiting themselves. But those who grew up in the civilized era were honest, united, rational, hardworking, and willing to contribute..."

She thought for a moment, then added, "Also, they were incredibly serious about their work. Even when cleaning toilets, they would scrub them until they were so clean you could drink the water from inside..."

"Wait, wait, wait..." I started feeling something was off after hearing the rest. "What exactly was that last part? Who wrote it, and based on what memory?"

She picked up an old magazine from the coffee table, flipped to a page, and pointed at the text. "Isn't this what it says?"

I quickly concluded, "This is a made-up ghost story. It's fake."

"Actually, I don't really believe those things, but after seeing you, I started to wonder if the legends I heard about the civilized era might be true," she said, and towards the end, she couldn't hold back a yawn.

"I'll say it upfront—I won't be drinking toilet water," I said.

"Why would I ask you to do that? You've helped me so much, and I don't even know how to repay you..." She became more and more tired, her body swaying.

After a while, she finally couldn't resist and fell asleep again.

Would her sudden sleepiness be related to the soul injuries she mentioned? I tried picking her up again. Although she insisted on sleeping on the sofa, I reasoned that it would be better for her to sleep in the bed, and for me to sleep on the sofa so I could keep an eye on her movements while she slept. This wasn't me being softhearted, it was a rational choice. This time, she didn’t wake up. I carried her to the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and covered her with a blanket.

I'm not sure if it was another nightmare, but her brows furrowed again, and her body tensed up.

I reached out a finger to smooth the crease between her brows, silently concentrating on generating warmth, making the blanket nice and cozy. Her expression gradually softened, and her whole body relaxed.

I recalled the smile of happiness on her face when she tasted the food and the way her knees gently wobbled like a child's, then looked at her peaceful, relaxed face now.

I slowly withdrew my finger and reflected on all that had happened so far.

Though there are still things I can't fully confirm, based on my observations and experiences, I no longer need to add uncertain phrases like "maybe" or "perhaps" when considering the truth of the bad luck or curse that follows Ma Zao.

The basement, the ritual array, Moumt Luo, Zhu Shi, Agent Kong, the Fallen Demon Hunter... ever since Ma Zao arrived, I've been encountering one mysterious thing after another—things I had never come across in my past life.

It felt like the protagonist of a fantasy story, someone who had lived a dull and uneventful life before the story began, only to be struck by a series of misfortunes once the story unfolded. Just as one trouble seemed to subside, another would emerge.

In the past, no matter how hard I tried, I could never encounter anything related to the supernatural. But now, those things seemed to come to me on their own, as if every step I took might lead to a new adventure.

If this isn't Ma Zao looking out for me, then how else could it be explained?

At least, I'm willing to believe that this is the truth.

And that means I have to approach it with the assumption that Ma Zao's bad luck might affect not just those around her, but even those connected to them. I must now decide how to handle my relationship with her going forward.

I have to make a choice—

Either I give up on continuing my relationship with Ma Zao, kick her out of my house right now, and return to a boring, uneventful life that guarantees safety and doesn't drag anyone else down;

Or, I cut off all normal relationships with family, friends, and classmates... and choose to remain connected with Ma Zao, embracing a life of separation from normal society.

.........

What a remarkable poisonous flower.

Very well, this suits my intentions perfectly.

I do enjoy poisonous flowers, the more toxic, the more delicious.

I have chosen the path of maintaining a relationship with Ma Zao.